


Name 3/30

by imachar



Series: 30 ficlets series [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imachar/pseuds/imachar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Narada, very angsty, be warned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Name 3/30

**Author's Note:**

> Un beta'd - read at your own risk.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Chris…” Phil leans in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the curve of Chris’ spine, ending with a firm nip to the back of his neck, his nose buried in the damp hair that curls at Chris’ nape. The lightning is beginning to spark up his spine, the ball of tight heat in his belly starting to flare and expand as he completes another slow slide to bury himself deep in the exquisite hot, slick silk of Chris’ body. Its only been a few weeks since Chris has been fit for full-on, unrestrained, fucking-through-the-mattress sex, and after ten months it feels so good to engage each other like this again that Phil can hardly stand it. Beneath him Chris is moaning incoherently through the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm, body clenching around Phil’s cock, shuddering as his own cock twitches weakly in Phil’s slippery grasp, fingers slick with sweat and come and the last convulsive spasm sends Phil right to the edge.

“oh Jesus fuck…Jesus…gonna come …” he pauses for a breathless moment and then falls “...oh fuck...Christopher…”

In the instant that the name leaves his lips Phil feels Chris go still beneath him. It takes him only a second to realize what has happened and in that moment he’s horrified at what he’s done, feels his gut churn and his heart freeze even as his body continues to move of its own volition – no possible way for him to stop the overwhelming physical need to come although he does at least manage to pull out, semen spattering unheeded down the back of Chris’ thighs. He braces himself to the side, taking his weight off the body that has collapsed onto the mattress and lays one hand gently in the middle of Chris’ back. The silence is broken only by the harsh sound of Chris trying to control his breathing, faint tremors rippling across his otherwise motionless frame and Phil aches as he watches Chris try to hold himself together and knows that one thoughtless utterance of his full given name will haunt them for a long damn time.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen the damn flight data recording from the Enterprise over and over again. That polite, almost casual conversation in which Nero invited Chris into hell with the words “Hi, Christopher…” delivered with all the slick insouciance of a true psychopath.

It takes all of Phil’s considerable control to make sure that his voice doesn’t break as he whispers softly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Chris, Jesus I wouldn’t hurt you for the world…fuck…I’m sorry.” He keeps it up, a soft litany of regret and sorrow that doesn’t come anywhere close to expressing the depth of his remorse until finally Chris moves, reaching out his hand to wrap his fingers around Phil’s wrist – only the slightest tremor betraying how deeply he’s been shaken.

“I know Phil, I know, it’s not your fault...” Chris has to pause for a moment to catch his breath before he goes on. “…you couldn’t have known that would happen – fuck I’m not sure _I_ would have known that was going to happen.” He shudders, a deep, convulsive shiver and rolls over, sliding close as Phil pulls him in tight, skin to skin, the most ancient and primal of all comforts. “It’ll pass...it _will_ pass. I just need to get this fucker out of my head.”

Phil just nods, not trusting himself to speak as he reaches over to pull the sheet up over them. He knows that for all Chris’ reassurances this may never pass, and even if it does, something broke tonight that won’t ever be mended – it’s a miniscule loss in the grand scheme of the losses they’ve suffered over the last year, but still Phil grieves for it – to know that he’ll never again be able to whisper the sweet benediction of Chris’ full name as he comes – an intimacy that they’ve shared for so many years.

After a few minutes he can feel the tremors settle and Chris sighs, an exhausted, shattered sound.

“Damn, I’m so tired. So tired of all of this.” He sounds so utterly disheartened that all Phil can do is grit his teeth and fight back the shake in his voice as he whispers... “Go to sleep, I’ve got you.” And he pulls Chris a little closer, tucking his chin over a broad shoulder and wrapping him tight as he feels the tension begin to drain from the warm body in his arms.

“I know…” long fingers wrap around Phil’s wrist “…I know…” Chris relaxes against him and Phil rubs his cheek gently against Chris’ head and waits for the nightmares to come.

 


End file.
